You Saved Me
by walking primrose
Summary: A short story about Jenner's account leading up to his first meeting with the group.


Authors note: OK, so this is Jenner's account leading up the very first scene in which Rick and his group meet Jenner. Hope you enjoy it!

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Death.

He had thought about it often especially since the outbreak in Atlanta spilled out onto the streets causing innocent civilians to become nothing more than rabid animals. It was an inevitable thing and most often than not it was a thing many feared. The unknown factor was a pressing issue and the fact that most of the population seemed to believe that the 'other side' had never existed.

Nobody knew if there was such a thing as heaven. No-one could ask those who had passed on if there was a heaven or a hell. It was just merely a thought, sometimes a wish. Was it the fear of the unknown that seemed to seep into everyone's dreams?

Edward Jenner sat back in his chair with his hands at the back of his head, fingers entwined to give his head support. His eyes were focused intently on the large screen that covered the majority of the wall in front of him, watching as the images on the screen changed every several seconds to a different camera angle.

The streets outside were – _still_ – empty; lifeless. It amazed him how he had missed seeing the streets outside the large glass fronted building known as the CDC used to be busy and filled with people commuting to work and school. Every morning he would wake and wish that just one person would be seen on the screen, just so that he'd know that at least one person other than himself was still alive… still existing, and not one of those _things_.

But as much as he had hoped, wished and even begged, his pleas were all left unanswered.

He hadn't heard from anyone in days – or was it weeks? Days all seemed the same now, they merged into others and they all became a cycle of eternity. He'd wake, rather unwillingly he must say, shower, have breakfast, sit in front of his computer for hours just waiting for any sign of life, trying and failing at contacting survivors, go to sleep… Jenner's life had become a routine now, and he hated it. He wasn't one for routines even before the apocalypse and even Sarah had found it amusing at his distaste for anything set in a routine. It had become predictable, repetitive and dull.

Sarah. There wasn't a second that went by in which he didn't think about her. She was always on his mind and everywhere he turned she was there watching him and by his side every step he took. The blonde locks he had fallen in love with blew gently as she followed him around his office, along the corridors and splayed out across the crisp pillow like a golden halo. There was no doubt in his mind that she was still around him even though her physical body was in a room just down the corridor, with the rest of the bodies. The soft haze of her perfume would fill his senses regularly almost as if she had just passed him… but the sights, smells and traces of Sarah were slowly replaced by the cold hard metal of the pistol he had used to end the life of his wife, his Sarah's, life.

They had met at college and had shared many lunchtimes debating whether or not he should cut his hair or follow the trend of having long hair. She was his first love, and he was hers. They were inseparable during their teenage years and their friendship soon turned into love at graduation when they shared their first kiss. Smiling at the memory, Jenner brushed the tears that filled his eyes away in one swift movement. He was never one to show emotion with the only time in which he cried was on his wedding day to his beloved, but now, ever since she took her last breath – her human breath – emotion seemed to be his only friend.

Cold metal seeped through his senses as he pulled open the drawer of his desk. His eyes were met with a black bulky object and he eyed it suspiciously, as though it were a threat of his own sanity. A post-it note lay upon it with his familiar scrawl etched across it.

_When things become worse._

He had been meaning to use it. As soon as his Sarah took her last breath, he was going to use it. One pull of the trigger and he would be able to join her. How much longer was he going to wait? Not that he was scared of the unknown, he just felt the need to wait it out…wait to see if any change to the world, wait and see if the world was restored.

Jenner would often dream, when his mind finally rested, that he was awoken by Sarah in the morning with a cup of his favourite coffee to be told that what he thought was reality was just a nightmare.

Suddenly, the sound of a man's voice filled his ears and he glanced up at the CCTV cameras that adorned the large wall. The stranger's voice seemed urgent, petrified, lifeless…

A survivor. There were others with him as Jenner peered at the uncertain faces peer up at the camera and back towards the oncoming _things. _He glanced down at the gun for a moment, contemplating whether or not he should pull the trigger and end it all before his heart ruled his head. After all there was no hope in the world. Everything had gone, and they were all living in a dead world. They were the walking dead.

Questions invaded his tortured mind. If he opened the door, gave them the last sliver of hope they were trying endlessly to hold onto, and those things came in with them, would that mean everything he had created to protect himself from the monsters walking the street had become a waste? What if those survivors wanted to take over the building, make it their own and kill him in the process? Jenner's eyes fell on the gun sitting in the drawer and immediately felt like a hypocrite. Every thought of his had become about suicide. He wanted to die, so why not at the hands of those wanting to live?

A few moments passed as he weighed in the pros and cons of letting them in. His heart was telling him to open the door and give the people what they wanted, whereas his head was being selfish and telling him to leave them. They were as good as dead anyway.

With his hand hovering over the button that had 'OPEN' scrawled beneath it, he took the bullet and pressed down on the button.

As golden angelic light showered and enveloped those outside and giving them the hope they needed, Jenner closed the drawer that contained the gun with one final glance. He grabbed the rifle leaning against his desk and stood, nerves starting to kick in.

Some would say Jenner had saved the group of survivors and had given them the chance to fight for freedom, but to Jenner, as he made his way down towards the lobby of the large and empty building, it was the survivors who had saved him, giving him another chance of survival.


End file.
